


Haunted

by merelypassingtime



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Halloween, Haunted Houses, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24068704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelypassingtime/pseuds/merelypassingtime
Summary: Things go poorly when Tony visits a haunted house.Luckily, Stephen is there to help.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 21
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All the thanks in the world to castiels-eyebrow for betaing this for me!

Tony smiled for the cameras, relying on years of experience to keep from reflexively squinting at the bright flashes of light, his ego was still recovering from the last round of tabloid pictorials discussing his crow’s feet. 

Keeping his emotions off his face was more of a challenge.

Once he had relished these sort of charity events, enjoying the buzz and energy of the richly dressed crowds and basking in all the attention and adoration that came his way, but he’d lost that enjoyment somewhere in the caves of Afghanistan. Now, the constantly pressing throng of people and their incessant noise frayed his already ragged nerves. Worse still, the fundraising season had hardly begun, and he knew the next few months would be packed with such parties.

The thought was enough to crack his fake photogenic smile, and for a second his weariness showed through. Tony only caught himself because of the strob of camera flashes that it triggered. He did manage to hide away the resigned sigh in his heart as he thought about the rumors probably already spreading with the pictures of his unguarded moment.

Fake smile back in place, he waved across the room to where Pepper stood next to the hors d’oeuvres table, nodding politely as he retreated from the press’ firing line and wove through the milling people to join her. 

“Tired of people fawning all over you already?” Pepper asked, handing Tony a flute of champagne.

“More like being drained of all life by those blood sucking leeches,” Tony answered, finally dropping the smile. He tossed back the proffered drink gratefully, then winced. “Wow, they didn’t exactly break out the good stuff for us, did they?”

“Well, it’s for charity after all,” Pepper replied, raising her own half empty glass. “I don’t think providing booze that’d measure up to your standards would leave much left over for the cause.”

Tony shrugged, it was a fair point. “And remind me just what today’s cause is again. I need to know if they’re worth drinking cheap champagne for.”

Pepper sighed, “Didn’t you read the email I sent you this morning?”

“I think we both know I didn’t.”

“And the reminders I had Jarvis give you?”

“I disabled his voice feature. I needed to concentrate on the new repulsor tuning, which I had almost finished when you had Happy break into the lab and abduct me,” he said, sulkily.

“Yeah, and if I hadn’t you'd still be there rather than here supporting the hospital’s new outreach program to provide free medical care for low income families.”

“Okay, okay. That’s worth suffering a few glasses of this dollar ninety-five per bottle swill. Though I would have been just as happy to write them a big check and stay at home finishing my repulsors.”

“Leaving you to tinker with your toys might have been more restful for all of us, but it wouldn’t have done anything to help your public image. Like it or not, a donation doesn’t get press like photos of the infamous Iron Man doing good with more than just his blasters.”

“Infamous? Really? Try renowned, or, even better: illustrious. That has a nice ring to it. The Illustrious Iron Man.”

“Geesh, Tony! I think you’ve been sleeping with too many journalists, you’re absorbing their vocabulary. Or are you going to start working on a sequel to your autobiography?”

“I should write a sequel. _The Stark Truth_ was a New York Times bestseller. And the book signings were a blast.”

“That’s only because you signed more body parts than you did books.”

Just to annoy her, Tony let his eyes unfocus as if reminiscing. “Yeah… Bet you didn’t have to have Happy drag me to those.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, clearly I don’t know what is good for me.”

“No argument here,” Pepper said, brandishing her champagne flute in a mocking toast.

“Remind me why I keep you around.”

“Shut up and at least try to enjoy yourself. They have brie rolls, and the haunted house should be opening soon.”

“A haunted house?”

“You really should read your messages, or even just pay attention. Don’t tell me you missed all the Halloween decorations and signs.”

“Of course I didn’t!” Tony objected. 

He completely had, but wasn’t about to admit it. Looking around now, the profusion of pumpkins, skulls, and other spooky paraphernalia were glaringly obvious and all the waitstaff were dressed in convincing straight jackets. A set of closed doors opposite the ones he’d come in had been made to look like a gate with pillars on either side holding up a lintel reading, “Welcome to Metropolitan General Institute of Mental Health,” painted over that in dripping red letters was, “Beware Ward 13!” 

“So, Ward 13, right?” he asked, trying to sound as if he’d known this all along. “Aren’t asylums passe?”

Pepper’s expression clearly said she was not fooled. “Maybe. But this one is supposed to be spectacular. I guess they got a Tony award winning Broadway set designer to donate her time and all the performers are volunteer actors and doctors.”

“Well, they have a point going for them there. Doctors are naturally terrifying.”

“You only think that because they tell you to take better care of yourself and lay off the alcohol.”

“See, terrifying,” Tony said, reaching for another glass of champagne. 

Pepper rolled her eyes and pointedly handed him a bottle of water instead.

Tony took it meekly. “So, when does the terror begin?”

“I don’t know, what year did I start working for you again?”

Tony just gave her a look.

“Nine,” she said. “The doors open at nine.”

He glanced at his watch before remembering that while he’d been working out how to fix all the components for a gauntlet into it, he’d forgotten to actually make it tell time. He made a mental note to fix that, then promptly forgot about it.

He asked, “What time is it now?”

“Fifteen till. We should probably get in line.”

“Let me get a plate of canapes first, then lead the way.” 

It was actually several plates of snacks later before the line began to move at all, and a trip to the bathroom and another round of champagne before they made it close enough to the front of the line to hear the white coated woman at the door’s spiel about the hospital’s haunted ward.

When it was finally their turn, Tony leaned over and whispered to Pepper, “This better be worth the wait.”

“Whether it is or not, you better rave about it for the press at the end, and, for the love of god, behave yourself.”

“Yes, mother,” Tony replied with what he hoped was a worrying smile as the doctor held the door open for them.

It started out tamely enough, an empty corridor, dusty and derelict, but as they ventured further in things gradually ratcheted up. Little touches at first, a flickering light, a single bloody handprint, a glimpse of a dark figure out of the corner of your eye. Soon it was everything you’d expect, gibbering actors in straight jackets, artistically arranged piles of bodies and heads in the corners, eery children's songs coming from a crackling intercom. 

Tony was impressed, and even had to admit some of the jumpscares had gotten his blood pumping, when they turned another corner and walked into utter blackness.

The darkness was cold and clammy and full of screaming, oh god, the screaming. Tony froze in place, trying to take deep breaths to calm down, but then the smell hit him. It was musty but still somehow sterile and metallic, like medical dressings over metal in a cold, dark cave.

Panic clawed its way out from the hole in his chest, making his heart pound painfully. He bit down hard on his lip, and the coppery taste of blood only fanned his fear higher. 

That’s when the strobe lights started.

_They’re firing!_ Tony thought wildly.

The reek of burning flesh and gunpowder was suddenly overwhelming and the staccato bark of automatic fire was coming from every direction.

The only thing he could think was Pepper was in danger, and he had to get her to safety right away before they hurt her. 

He fumbled behind him, the flashing lights doing little to help him see through the smothering dark. Finally, his hand connected with another hand. Grasping it tightly, he ran toward a faint light ahead of them.

The sounds and flashing lights got worse as they neared what looked to be a doorway, but Tony pushed forward, focused on saving Pepper. 

They burst through the door into a room filled with cold blue light and soft fog, still and silent as the grave.

Tony finally took a deeper breath, then turned to make sure Pepper wasn’t hurt, but Pepper wasn’t behind him.

Instead, he was holding the hand of a tall figure completely swathed in red robes.

Reflexively, he jerked his hand away, stumbling back into the wall behind him as his mind shut down and he started shaking uncontrollably. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground. He tried to scream but nothing came out as the red clad wraith swooped in closer for the kill.


	2. Chapter 2

Christine roped Stephen into it against his will.

“Come on Stephen,” she had wheedled. “It’s for a good cause.”

“But a haunted house? Really?”

“It’ll be fun! All theatrical and spooky, you know, like you already are.”

“I’m not spooky!”

“Yeah, you are. Besides, I bet you could even use your special cult powers to add to the ambience.”

Frowning he said, “The mystical arts aren’t party favors.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“I never should have introduced you and Wong.”

“No point crying over spilt milk now,” she replied cheerfully. “Are you in or not?

“Fine, but only if I don’t have to dress as a doctor. I don’t think I could bear that.”

“We can work with that,” she promised, her voice gentle.

The costumers had really come through too. After he showed them the Cloak of Levitation, who’d made it clear it wanted to be part of the fun, they had decked him out in an amazing Mask of the Red Death themed ensemble to match it. He even grudgingly admitted he was sort of having fun, gliding silently up behind people and watching their reactions when they noticed him. 

Some flinched, some screeched, and most ran away. Sure, a few people came down on the other side of fight or flight and threw a punch at him, but what good would all that training in the fight arts be if he couldn’t dodge a wild blow.

That was what he was expecting when he did his thing, ghosting up behind a man alone in the strobe light room. The guy was short, but something in his stance said he was a fighter.

What he wasn’t expecting was for the guy to reach back blindly and grab his hand, pulling him forward towards the next room. The sudden pressure hurt his hand, but not unbearably, and he decided to play along, thinking that the pay off when the guy did look back and see just who he had a hold of was going to be great.

When they reached the next room and the man did turn around, Stephen instantly realized his mistake. Sweat stood out on the guy’s unnaturally grey face and his eyes were flickering wildly around the room like those of a cornered animal.

When they landed on Stephen, they went impossible wider, and the man pulled away, slamming into the nearest wall and sliding down it to the floor, hyperventilating.

Stephen recognized the signs of a panic attack, even if he’d never been trained specifically to deal with them. Some things were obvious though, and he quickly pushed back his hood and tore off his mask, tossing it into the opposite corner from where the man was now huddled with his hands covering his face while he rocked frantically back and forward.

Stephen crouched down between him and the room. He reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder, but thought better of it and instead started talking his voice low and steady.

“It’s okay, everything is okay. You’re not in danger.”

In a hoarse whisper, the man said, “Pepper. Need to save Pepper and Rhodey. They’re in danger.”

“No,” Stephen said. “They’re safe too. Everyone is safe.”

“They’re firing on us!”

_Ah-_ Stephen thought, as that slotted in with the man’s panic and need to protect whoever Pepper and Rhodey were and came back with a likely diagnosis of ‘soldier with PTSD’.

Not that Stephen had any better idea what to do about that.

Luckily, The Cloak apparently did know what to do. It billowed behind him, almost pulling him backwards to land on his ass, then quickly pulling him forward closer to the man so it could wrap around the both of them, cocooned them in darkness.

“What the-” Stephen started, but stopped, thinking swearing loudly wouldn’t be helpful, particularly as he was now pressed almost face to face with the panicking man. 

He took a deep breath of his own and said, “Okay, it’s okay.”

The man countered almost angrily, “No, it’s not.”

“Okay, it’s not right now. You’re having a panic attack, but you really are safe.”

“Pepper-”

“I’m sure she’s safe too,” Stephen said, hoping to all the gods it was true. “Right now we just need to focus on you. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Amazingly, the man did.

For the next several minutes Stephen kept up his litany, repeating different variations on the theme that the man was safe and that he needed to just keep breathing. Between that and the intimate darkness, the man did seem to be calming down.

In the soft blue glow that came from underneath the man’s shirt, from a phone Stephen guessed, he could see the guy’s face relaxing and hear his breaths become longer and more measured.

When he lowered his hands from his face and made eye contact, Stephen smiled at him.

“Hi there,” he said. 

Weakly, the man replied, “Hello.”

“Do you know your name?”

“Tony.”

“Great, Tony. Do you know where you are?”

There was a long pause then Tony muttered, “Charity thing.”

“Good, what is the last thing you remember?”

“Cheap, cheap champagne.”

“Yeah, okay. That’s probably fair. What else?”

“The crab cakes were really good.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“Then we waited in line forever for a haunted house. Oh! The haunted house! Me and Pepper were going through it when it got dark and…” He trailed off.

Stephen jumped in, “Yeah, I saw. That’s when you grabbed me.”

“Sorry about that, I thought you were someone else.”

“Pepper, right?”

“God, I bet she’s wondering where the hell I am.”

“I can go get her for you,” Stephen offered, shifting in preparation to stand.

Tony grabbed his arm, halting the movement, “No, please. Don’t go. I’m not ready to be alone.”

“Sure thing. Whatever you need.” 

Stephen eased back down, using the opportunity to sit rather than crouch. His knees were killing him.

They sat there for a while, Tony’s hand still resting on Stephen’s arm.

It was Tony who finally broke the silence. “So, what’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?”

Stephen chuckled, it sounded nice and warm in the small space. “Really? Cheesy pickup lines?”

“Give me a break, I’m not exactly on top form right now. Besides, who said it was a line? I’m just trying to make conversation.”

“Fine. I was a doctor here, so I offered to help them when they needed volunteers.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“Yeah,” Stephen said, unconsciously rubbing his hands together, “or, I used to be anyway.”

“Oh, I just assumed you were an actor. You’ve certainly got the face and voice for it.”

“Oh?”

“That was a line. Did it work?”

“No,” Stephen lied.

“Damn, I’ll have to try harder then.”

Stephen blushed and hated himself for blushing. He hoped the poor lighting would hide it, but judging by Tony’s wolfish grin, it did not. Time for a change in topic.

“Well,” Stephen said. “Clearly you’re feeling a bit better. Are you ready to try moving? My legs are going numb.” 

“Yeah, I’m kinda there myself,” Tony agreed, starting to stand up.

Stephen stopped him. “Here, let me go first so I can get the Cloak off of us.”

Carefully, he got to his feet and stretched, feeling the Cloak resettle itself on his shoulders.

“Neat trick with the cape there,” Tony said. “Is it animatronic?”

“Nope, it’s magic.”

Tony glared at him and Stephen grinned back, enjoying the irony of the truth.

Before Tony could reply, a group of guests burst into the room, their forms indistinct in the heavy fog, but their giggles loud and jarring. Tony turned pale again. Quickly, Stephen and the Cloak moved in front of him, blocking him from view. Stephen tried to look menacing as they passed, but they didn’t seem to notice him at all.

When they were out of sight, Stephen and the Cloak relaxed and turned back to Tony. “We should probably get out of here before anyone else comes along.”

“That’d be great,” Tony agreed. “I don’t really want anyone to see me like this.”

“There’s a hidden door for the performers in the next room. There’s a little bit of fake gore between us and it, but as long as you're with me no one should jumpscare us.”

Tony took Stephen’s hand for the second time that night, but this time he smiled as he did. “Lead the way.”

They got through the door with no problems and were almost to the exit before Christine caught up to them.

“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded, looking at Stephen.

“Sorry,” Stephen said. He glanced at Tony, and continued, “I, um, got tied up.”

“And who the hell is this?”

Remembering that Tony didn’t want to share his panic attack, Stephen lied quickly, “He’s a guest. I caught him and another guest doing unspeakable things in a corner of one of the rooms.”

“Yes,” Tony jumped in. “Unspeakable. I am a very naughty boy like that.”

“And where is the other guest?” Christine asked, her eyebrows raised.

Stephen shrugged. “They managed to get away.”

“Oh? They got away, did they?” 

As she said it, Christine deliberately looked Stephen up and down, and he suddenly realized how rumbled his clothes were and that he’d forgotten to retrieve his mask. To his horror he felt another blush starting to creep up his neck at the heavily innuendo in her voice.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “They escaped.”

“Clean away,” Tony agreed, with the world’s least convincing innocent look.

“Sure they did,” Christine said. “Well, I guess you better finish escorting him out then, but then I need you back to work.”

“Yeah, fine,” Stephen agreed, pushing a grinning Tony past her.

She called after them, “And there better be no more ‘escaping’ on the way.”

When they were out of earshot Tony said quietly, “Thanks for that.”

“Well, it was sorta true. Even if it was maybe less fun than I implied.”

“I don’t know, it started out rough, but I was rather enjoying myself by the end there.”

“Oh, um good.”

Damn it, he could feel the blush spreading now.

Luckily, the end of the attraction was near. Stephen stopped by the last access door and looked at Tony, feeling hot and awkward.

“Here,” he said. “This leads right into the last corridor, you can go out with the other guests.”

“Thanks again,” Tony said offering his hand.

Stephen shook it, feeling unreasonably sad to be parting.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Tony if he wanted to get a drink or something later, but it didn’t feel right when the guy had just had a panic attack, and he didn’t want to sully the good mood he’d recovered by pushing him for more that he didn’t want to give.

Even if Tony seemed just as reluctant to let go Stephen’s hand as Stephen was.

When he did let go, it was with another grin and a little salute as he turned toward the exit.

“See you around,” he called over his shoulder before turning the corner into the outer room.

As he did Stephen heard the low buzz from the press gathered there turn into a roar, with dozens of voices calling out, “Mr Stark!” and “Tony!”

Tony _Stark_ , Stephen realized, having a small moment of panic all his own. He’d been flirting with Tony Stark.

Even worse Christine thought he’d had sex with him.

He was never gonna live this down.

**Epilogue**

Hours later, after the last of the party goers had been through the attraction and Christine had grudgingly let him go with only a moderate amount of teasing, Stephen was still thinking about how he’d made a fool of himself in front of _the_ Tony Stark when he bumped into someone as he came out of the staff entrance.

Still lost in his thoughts, Stephen didn’t look up as he mumbled, “Sorry.”

“We’ve really got to stop meeting like this,” a familiar voice said.

Stephen’s head jerked up, and, sure enough, there was Tony Stark, looking cool and confident and every inch the genius billionaire he was. He also was as far removed as possibly from the pale panicked man Stephen had met in a dark room hours ago. 

“Tony!” he said, then corrected himself. “I mean, Mr Stark.”

“Oh, don’t get like that. I’m still just Tony.”

“Sorry, um Tony. What are you still doing here?”

“Well, see, there’s this rumor going around that noterious playboy Tony Stark was caught having sex in this place.”

“Gods,” Stephen said, his heart dropping. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it would get out to the press, I didn’t even realize you were Tony Stark!”

“No, no, stop apologizing. It’s fine, great in fact. It’ll do wonders for my image. Certainly a lot more than the truth would, anyway.”

“Oh. Good, I guess.”

“I thought so,” Tony said. “In fact, if you’d like, I was hoping to take you out sometime as a thank you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“No, I know. I just really want to.”

He looked sincere and hopeful and beyond gorgeous. Really, what did Stephen have to lose?

“Okay,” he agreed. “I mean, of course! I’d love to. When were you thinking?”

“Well, what are you doing right now?”

Stephen took a breath, and decided to be bold. “Not you, but the night’s still young. If you play your cards right, maybe we can make those rumors true.”

Tony laughed, delighted. “Then, by all means, let me get you to dinner.”

He offered his hand and Stephen took it, letting Tony pull him forward once more.


End file.
